I can't keep loving you!
by never-again8642
Summary: ."You know, some days I just feel like I'm fading away into nothing..." Ginny loves Harry more than anything in the world, but he doesn't even notice she's alive. GH,RHr; rating for alcohol over-use, swearing, and some adult content.[complete & edited]
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, the all belong to JKR - I just own the plot! :)

**Chapter 1**

"Hey Gin! How-...Bloody hell, you look like shit. What have you been _doing_ to yourself?" Ron Weasley asked, with his usual amount of tact, his younger sister, Ginny, who was standing at his door. He wasn't being the typical older brother and overreacting, either, the only way to describe the way she looked was... "like shit." She had huge dark circles under her eyes, her clothes were wrinkled, and a certain aura of stale drink emanated from them. Her fire-red hair seemed to be clean, but Ginny hadn't taken the time to brush it before she left the house, so it wasn't the most presentable it had ever been. But worst of all, what Ron didn't notice because he turned away too quickly to see, was her eyes. They were still brown, but the eyes that used to always seem to have streaks of light dancing in them, once always happy, were now hollow, and unnaturally tired.... The most frightening aspect about them, however, was that they seemed to be locked from the inside, and Ginny didn't look like she was opening the doors any time soon.

Looking tiredly at her brother, Ginny sighed and said "Thanks, Ron. Look, I'm not staying for long, just here to meet Herm–" but she never finished that sentence, because her breath caught in her throat as she caught sight of the one person she wanted to both see the least and the most at the same time sitting on Ron's couch, sipping a bottle of butterbeer – Harry Potter. Ginny panicked internally – she didn't want him to see her like this! She had gotten drunk, as usual, the night before and had just passed out on the couch. After waking up too late this morning to have time to change or shower, she had just kept on the clothes she had worn yesterday to meet Hermione to go to lunch – Ginny _knew_ how she hated to be kept waiting, especially on the weekends. It was interesting; weekends are normally thought to be days when you can relax without worrying about anything, but after being roommates with Hermione for almost three years, (and having lived in the dorm next to hers in Hogwarts) Ginny had learned that Hermione saw weekends as a time to get as much "fun" stuff done as possible before the week started up again. _Oh sod it,_ Ginny thought to herself. _He never notices what I wear _anyway_, no reason why now would be different._

Sighing internally, again, Ginny stepped gingerly into the apartment, and said softly "Is Hermione almost ready? We really have to get going. I've got stuff to do later today." Even though she knew perfectly well she most definitely didn't – unless you counted getting stone drunk again as soon as she came back from lunch, though that certainly wasn't a new occurrence. It happened every night, except for Thursdays.

"Hey Ginny! I'll be right there, just have to find my jumper in your brother's mess of a bedroom." Hermione's voice came floating out from somewhere in the back of the apartment. Ginny groaned, though quietly so no one could hear, of course. She just didn't want to have to spend anymore time than necessary looking like she did in the same room as the man she had been in love with for around ten years or so – well, that's if you include when she simply had a crush on her brother's very good-looking best friend at the age of ten.

The room fell to be oddly quiet. Ron looked strangely at the two of them, Harry sitting normally on the couch finishing off his drink, and Ginny sitting ramrod straight on the edge of her chair, as if she was prepared to bolt off any second now. Rolling his eyes, Ron stood up, and walked towards the back of the apartment, "Let me help you look, 'Mione!" Within a nanosecond, he was out the living room door, leaving Harry and Ginny alone.

Ginny didn't know what to say, and was about to start making small talk, when Harry started to speak. "So Gin, we still on for Thursday?" He smiled that simple, heart-breaking smile that made Ginny go weak at the knees every time she saw it.

Trying to look happy, and not at all apprehensive at the thought, Ginny replied as warmly as she could muster "Yes, absolutely."

Harry looked thrilled. "Brilliant! Whose place this time, yours or mine?"

Ginny sighed mentally, though a bit of quick acting made it look like she was pondering the question and not simply thinking, _it won't matter anyway_. "How about here? We always seem to meet at my place."

Just as Harry said, "Great! I–" Ron and Hermione stumbled into the room, looking a little too flushed for either Harry or Ginny's comfort.

Hermione finished buttoning up her top, and, quickly regaining her poise, said briskly, "Let's get going, Ginny! We have loads to do today!"

So, smiling weakly, Ginny stood up to leave. The two girls walked out of the living room, and into the front hall, but before they could leave, Ginny could faintly hear the beginning of Ron and Harry's conversation. "So, Harry, tell me about this new girl you met last night."

Ginny could hear the smirk in Harry's voice. "Well, I'm not sure 'met' is quite the right word... let's try fu–"

Before she could hear anymore, Ginny flew out of the apartment and onto the street to wait for Hermione to find her purse. Breathing heavily, Ginny closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry. _Not now... oh Merlin, don't do this now...._

Just then Hermione walked cheerfully out of the building smiling. But as soon as she saw Ginny with her eyes shut tight, leaning against the wall for support, her look became sad, and weighed heavy with pity. "Oh, Ginny, I'm sorry... I didn't –"

Ginny's eyes flew open, and she cut her off. "Don't be sorry," she snapped. "There's nothing to be sorry about." The two women stood there looking at each other silently for a moment, before Ginny spoke again, resigned. "So, where are we going first then?" She attempted to smile.

Hermione, though still worried for her best friend, grinned back, and started walking quickly down the street, looking back every few steps to make sure Ginny was keeping up, while rambling about buying this and that, going here and there. Ginny sighed, and jogged to keep up with the one friend she truly had left.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Sitting outdoors in a cozy café right in the middle of Diagon Alley, Ginny had her back propped against the wall of the restaurant, as she tuned out all sounds around her – including Hermione's voice. When she noticed, Hermione sighed and hit Ginny on the head with her napkin. Ginny jumped and exclaimed, "What?! What was that for?"

Hermione smiled worriedly at her friend. "Gin, you haven't been paying attention to what I've been saying for at least fifteen minutes – again. Actually, you don't seem to have been paying attention to anything – are you feeling ok?"

With no emotion on her face, except fatigue, Ginny replied firmly, "I'm fine. Look, you have a lot more to do today, and I don't seem to be helping in any of it – I'm just more of a nuisance, really, something that you have to worry about not forgetting. So I think I'll just bugger off, and see you at home later, ok?" Ginny hoped she didn't sound too eager to get away from the bright sunlight and happy people.

Hermione studied Ginny's face carefully, and sighed. "Gin, I'm not sure it's a good idea if I left you alone now... really, you should stay-"

Ginny cut her off. "I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself, Hermione. I don't need a babysitter, despite what my mother or anyone else may think."

"I know you're an adult, Ginny, but I'm worried about you...."

More annoyed now, Ginny groaned quite audibly. "Look, I'm leaving, all right? I'll see you at home later."

Resigned to the fact that she wouldn't be able to keep Ginny from leaving without making a scene, Hermione grimaced sheepishly, feeling bad about leaving her roommate again – like she did almost every night of the week. "Er – actually, Gin, I'm going to be staying at Ron and Harry's again tonight... it being the weekend and all...."

Having expected this, and thinking, _since when did the time of week ever effect when you wanted to f_---_ my brother?_ Ginny replied snappishly, "Right, bye then," and disapparated with a POP.

Hermione knew that Ginny was in serious trouble, but she also knew that it was out of her hands to control – she had tried to stop Ginny's drinking a couple of times, and it always resulted in them dueling, something which Hermione never enjoyed. After sitting in her seat at the café for a few more minutes, Hermione remembered that she had wanted to pick up a few things at home (namely, clothes) before she went to stay at Ron's, and decided that it would be better to rush home before Ginny got entirely soused to the point of throwing things at anything that moved (be it her roommate or the kitchen clock). She left a few coins on the table to pay for their drinks, and apparated into the small apartment she and Ginny had shared since they were both out of school.

It wasn't much – two bedrooms, the sitting room, a kitchen (which opened right up to the sitting room), and a bathroom. Just enough for them to live by... though, it generally wasn't big enough for Ron to stay the night, which is one of the reasons why Hermione spent so many of her nights over at his and Harry's place (Harry was usually never a problem – he either spent the night at some girl's house who he had happened to pick up, or he came home so late that Ron and Hermione never noticed him slipping into his bedroom anyway).

When Hermione popped into the sitting room of their small apartment, she immediately saw Ginny sitting remorsefully at their kitchen table, with one empty bottle of fire-whiskey hanging from one hand, and a newly opened, full one in the other. Hermione recognized this stage of Ginny's drinking – she only had enough alcohol in her system to make her more open with her surroundings... whether that included people or not.

Ginny recognized Hermione's entrance by dropping the first bottle to the floor, which landed on the white tile with a loud 'crack.' As if in a trance, she began to speak, quietly, her speech slightly slurred, but still audible from where Hermione was standing. "You know, some days I just feel like I'm fading away into nothing… It's nice, sometimes, when it starts to hurt so much that I can't even move. Other days I feel like I'm melting into a puddle... so many tears, and they're all for him... and he doesn't care.... It's too hard." Her voice cracked, and a lone tear slipped out, and onto the rim of her full fire-whiskey bottle, the droplet dripping down to mix with the liquid that would soon help her forget all the pain she always felt, at least for a few hours, anyway.

Hermione knew from experience not to interfere, and that speaking would most likely make Ginny mad, which, at this stage of her alcohol consumption, was a very bad idea (in other words, Ginny was still sober enough to use her wand properly, and since she was a fully trained – and quite powerful – witch, provoking the use of her magic in a negative way was a very poor idea indeed). So, feeling helpless, and like a horrible friend, Hermione slipped into her room to gather a few things in a rucksack, and then briefly stepped out into the sitting room to pick up her coat, which she had left on the couch.

Turning around, possibly to either wave or say goodbye, Hermione was upset to see that in the twenty minutes or so that she had been in her room, Ginny had finished off three-quarters of her new fire-whiskey bottle, and it had apparently had ample time to work its way well into Ginny's system. At the sight of Hermione about to apparate away, Ginny, now at the next stage of her alcohol consumption (not caring what other people thought or felt about anything she did), grinned maliciously. "Bye, Hermy! Enjoy f------ my brother!! And say hello to-" and with that, not wanting to hear anymore, Hermione disapparated.

She appeared a second later in Ron's apartment, and burst into tears right in the middle of the living room. Harry and Ron were surprised, both to see her home so early, and to see her begin to cry right in front of them, which was not something that occurred regularly.

Ron (being the wonderful, caring boyfriend that he is) leapt off the couch immediately to comfort Hermione. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and made to walk her to his room. As they reached the doorframe (Hermione still crying her eyes out), Ron turned quickly to mouth "_Sorry_" to Harry, who looked very perplexed. The two of them walked into Ron's room, and shut the door, leaving Harry alone on the couch to wonder what on earth had just happened – and since when did Hermione have problems that she didn't share with both Ron _and_ Harry?


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Once he got Hermione seated on the end of his bed, Ron went to fetch some tissues to dry her eyes. As he dabbed her face and cheeks, whispering words of comfort and assurance that she could tell him anything, Hermione couldn't help but briefly smile at her boyfriend. He finally admitted his feelings (and in a particularly inarticulate way, though at the time, Hermione had been so happy he was finally opening up that she hadn't noticed) in the middle of their seventh year at Hogwarts. They fought side-by-side with their best friend, all equals, during the last battle, and surviving it together only brought their relationship even closer. They had sort of agreed to become engaged a week or so ago, but hadn't told anyone, and it wasn't strictly official (Ron was still looking for the perfect engagement ring, though Hermione didn't know that was why they were holding off finalizing it).

In any case, that was what distracted Hermione from her sad thoughts about Ginny long enough for her to stop crying. Ron noticed this immediately, and took this as an opportunity to ask what had happened. "'Mione? Is it Ginny?"

At the mention of her dear friend's name, Hermione gave a deep, sad sigh. She was the only one who knew how badly Ginny had been in the past year or so. Ron knew about it to the extent that she would get blind drunk at least twice a week, but Ginny had forbade Hermione from telling Ron, or anyone else (especially Harry), that in actuality she got drunk every afternoon and night of the week, except for Thursdays. Ron had only come across her once, right before she passed out. It was not something he had wanted to experience again (in fact, he, too, had tried to talk with Ginny about it soon after that; but, because he was her brother and she had no inhibitions about hurting him, it had only resulted in Hermione coming home that night to find Ron hexed, tied, and gagged on their couch). Ron's second inclination was to either beat Harry to a pulp for making his sister feel this way, or to talk to Harry, and get _him_ to talk to Ginny about how she felt, but Hermione quickly warned him that Ginny had already threatened to "spay" (Ginny's words exactly) Hermione if she said anything, and the same went for Ron (except, for him, Ginny used a much nastier phrase). After this, the two of them were forced to give up on helping Harry and Ginny get together, and just had to hope that they would figure it out on their own, without Ginny being hurt any more than she already was. Sadly, her drinking had already affected her in one of the worst ways possible for a girl.

Hermione was the only one who knew that Ginny had lost her virginity, and didn't remember any of it. There was no way for either of them to tell if she had been raped, or if it was drunkenly consensual, and Ginny had refused to go to St. Mungo's to find out any further. Being a Healer-in-training herself at the time, Ginny had been able to assess that she was not pregnant or otherwise physically hurt at the time, but what haunted her, late at night on the occasional day she got the night shift (thus not being passed out), was that she had lost that special moment of her life forever, and couldn't ever really get it back. That knowledge followed Hermione around too, but she never mentioned it to Ginny, afraid it would set her off.

At any rate, Hermione, out of her memories and back on the bed with Ron, sighed deeply again. "Yes," she said, very simply.

Ron, too, sighed. He didn't need to ask for any further information or details of what had gone on, nor did he want to. "Because of seeing Harry?"

"I would suppose that was what triggered it. But, oh Ron! It's so awful... you should have heard some of the things she said... I don't think I've ever felt sorrier for someone in my life... well, not in recent years, anyway." She gave a furtive look towards their living room, where Harry sat (still confused as to what was happening inside the bedroom). Sighing again, and to Ron's slight surprise, she continued to tell him what had happened. "She was despondent at first, I don't think I should tell you what she said exactly, but when I came out of my room after packing for tonight, she was so... so angry! And, it seemed like it was really directed at me this time, not like she was displacing her anger like she's done before." Hermione let another teardrop fall onto her clothes.

Ron firmly took her chin into his hands, gently wiped away the remaining tear with his thumb, and made her look him right in the eyes. "'Mione, none of this is your fault. You and I both know we have no control over this, really."

Hermione sighed, for what seemed the umpteenth time in ten minutes. "I know, but I just... I feel so helpless, because she's drifting away right under my nose, and I can't seem to do anything to stop it." They looked sadly into each other's eyes, silently thinking of what might become of Ginny if this were to continue.

Outside in the living room, Harry gave up on them coming out anytime soon, and went searching for something to do. He suddenly had the urge to find a couple of very interesting magazines that Ron had brought home a few days ago (he only wanted them for the articles, of course). Searching everywhere, Harry was unable to find head or tail of them. Sidling up to the door of Ron's room to see if it were okay to intrude upon their "moment," he heard no sounds coming out at all. Deciding that it was safe, Harry called through the door, "Ron, do you know where those magazines are that you brought home a few days ago? The ones with the... the pictures?" Harry finished quite lamely, not knowing if Hermione knew about them or not, unwilling to get Ron in trouble.

Little did he know, but Hermione knew very well that Ron had brought those magazines home. They had a little agreement between the two of them regarding reading material – Hermione would let Ron stare at whatever dirty magazines that he wanted, if he didn't make fun of her re-reading _Hogwarts, A History_ as many times as she pleased. In fact, Hermione knew where they were, too. "Ron left them at my place, Harry!"

Had Ron been outside to witness Harry's look of surprise at hearing Hermione's (albeit a little hoarse, but nonetheless very clear) voice respond to his question, Ron would have been in hysterics for weeks. Harry quickly recovered, and still determined to be able to read them, he shouted back through the door, "Thanks! I'll just pop over to your place to pick them up," and disapparated.

Hearing the distinctive 'CRACK' through the door of someone apparating, Hermione and Ron stared at each other in horror at what they dearly hoped was just Harry knocking over a lamp or something. They simultaneously leapt to the door and ran outside to see if Harry had just done what they thought he had done. Seeing no sign of him, they were left to only one conclusion, and they both turned to each other in terror. "Ginny!"

A/N: Thanks to all those who reviewed!! and Magsluvsaragorn, tell me about it!! ;)

Now, dont the rest of you want to make me really, really happy and review? (critics and compliments are welcome!!)


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

It had only been about half an hour since Hermione had left Ginny to her own devices, and in that time, Ginny had only been able to finish the contents of her second bottle of fire-whiskey – a couple of times a week Hermione tried to hide their alcohol (knowing full well that, being drunk, Ginny wouldn't be able to think clearly about just going out to get more) in an attempt to dissuade Ginny from drinking. She had been searching for around fifteen minutes, all over the apartment (which was now scattered with things that may have gotten in the way of her frantic alcohol search), when she finally found the rest of the fire-whiskey transfigured into the magazine rack in the bathroom. _She must have been tired, it's been that before_, Ginny mused, before stumbling back into the sitting room in order to sit on the couch and stare into the empty fireplace, before selecting a bottle, and ripping its cap off.

Just as she took a swig, Harry apparated right in front of her, startling Ginny so badly that she inadvertently spat out all the fire-whiskey she had just drunk onto a very surprised Harry. They both started talking at once.

"Sorry for scaring you! I-"

"Oh sorry, Harry, I didn't expect anyone to-"

"-just dropped in to pick something up...."

"-be coming by this time of day-"

"What are you doing drinking at four-thirty in the afternoon?"

"-and... what?" Ginny suddenly realized that she was half drunk, in front of Harry, the man she went to all lengths to impress every week when they met on Thursdays, and he might have just discovered the one secret she never wanted him to find out.

"What are you doing drinking at four-thirty in the afternoon?" Harry repeated. As Ginny sputtered to try to find an answer, her alcohol-addled mind still clear enough to want to impress the man she loved, Harry looked around the small apartment. He quickly noticed the two empty bottles of fire-whiskey on the floor, and a full twelve pack (minus the one Ginny spat all over him) sitting on the floor adjacent to the couch. What took fewer observation skills to notice was that the apartment was an absolute wreck. Clothes, tables, chairs, and glass remnants of assorted objects once decorating their house were strewn all over the floor. It also reeked of alcohol – _though_, Harry thought, _that might just be due to the fact that I'm standing right next to a large quantity of fire-whiskey_.

Ginny noticed him looking around the apartment and cringed inwardly, before she tried to figure out what to do. The drunken part of her mind taking precedence, she decided that she didn't have to answer his question if she didn't want to, and walked to the kitchen to sit at the table, facing Harry, who was still standing in the sitting room waiting for an answer. After around five minutes of waiting, Harry walked over to the table and sat in the chair next to Ginny, and quietly asked "What's bothering you, Gin? There's obviously something wrong, otherwise you wouldn't be drinking at this time of day."

After her heart slowed down from the shock that he was sitting so close to her, she quickly became annoyed by his attitude, and sat staring at Harry for another minute or so. Her eyes, which had been sad just a minute ago, immediately closed, leaving no sign of anything she was feeling, except bitterness. "Since when have you ever _really_ cared how I feel, Harry? Really, we meet every week, but we usually talk about _your_ feelings, or about incoven- incosen- things that don't matter." Abruptly, Ginny stood up and pushed her chair onto the floor, and strode quickly out of the kitchen.

Harry, unperturbed, followed her out of the kitchen and into the sitting room. "Bollocks, Gin, we must talk about you at some times, we've met every week for a year and a half now, and we've known each other since the beginning of school. But seriously, what's the matter? What's wrong?" Harry stopped, he was facing Ginny's back. He could see her tense up as Ginny slowly turned around. Harry, expecting her to be tired of fighting and to just confess everything, was surprised to see so much anger etched in every premature line on her face.

"You want to know what's wrong with me, Harry? Do you really want to know?" Ginny said, malevolently, striding right up to him, so she could glare right into his frightened, green eyes. Harry could smell the alcohol on her breath, and see the fire, mimicking her hair, in her burning eyes. "What's wrong is that for, oh, nine years or so I've been in love with a man who doesn't love me back. A man who was once a boy who I thought might have loved me too… until he discovered how much fun f------ other girls was, and forgot all about me, and the possibility of anything we might have had. Did you ever stop to think, _Harry_–" Ginny spat out his name with such vehemence and disgust that it made its owner recoil in shock. "– about how I felt when you would go on and on at the Burrow about your latest encounter with some girl who let you f--- her in a bathroom, a ferris wheel, and any other vulgar place you happened to be, on the first date? Or how desperately I might have wanted to _be_ that girl? Not on the first date, maybe, and probably not on a ferris wheel... but that's beside the point!!

"You caved in, Harry, after you defeated Voldemort. We left school, and you were a completely different person. Nothing could get through to you. You stopped telling me anything about your life – you even stopped talking to me altogether for awhile. Forgot about that, did you? I certainly couldn't. Then, a year and a half or so ago, you started to talk to me again. But mainly about your 'f--- buddies', as I call them – I knew that all the crap you said you felt about them was bullshit, I wasn't blind. No, actually, I was, because somewhere deep inside me, I thought that you might still be able to care for me. How wrong I was. About six months after that, I started hiding myself. I couldn't stand to come home to see Ron and Hermione sitting on my couch, couldn't stand to see them so in love, when the man who _I_ loved was off f------ every f------ girl in London. Drinking makes me feel better – takes away any residual pain I might have. Don't you DARE look at me like that!!" Harry's frightened gaze had turned into pity at the mention of her drinking, which Ginny evidently did _not_ care for in the least.

"You have no _idea_ how much _pain_ I've been in because of you!! To simply forget how I feel, I need at least four bottles of fire-whiskey – then I need at least two more bottles so the feeling lasts for at _least_ two hours. Bloody, stupid ass, if you'd only had the decency to show up in about an hour, I wouldn't have to be telling you all this because I wouldn't remember any of it. F--- it. F--- you!! You know what, never mind…. Do you have _any_ feelings left towards me or not?!"

Ginny left that last sentence open for Harry to say something while she caught her breath. Harry was too shocked to say anything. Ginny grinned sarcastically. "Oh, of course not. The boy who just _had_ to keep _living_ is incapable of actually _loving_. Figures. I can't believe I've been wasting my life on you, all my tears, all of myself... well, I won't do it anymore. Do you hear that, Harry?! I WON'T DO IT ANYMORE! I CAN'T KEEP LOVING YOU!" Harry looked as if he was about to cry, or speak, or something, but Ginny wouldn't let him get a word in edgewise. "I'm done with you, Harry. I can't keep loving you! I just can't keep feeling this way – it's killing me. _You're_ killing me. I've taken a job as a Healer in Spain, I'm leaving tomorrow. I was hoping to just slip away, but I guess that isn't going to happen now. Oh well. I'll tell Hermione when she comes home – that is, if she stops f------ my brother long enough to show her face... and if I'm not passed out by the time she gets home." Ginny paused for breath. Harry opened his mouth, but Ginny quickly fastened her hand over his lips, preventing any recognizable sound from coming out. "I'm leaving tomorrow night, and I think it's better if we don't see each other again before then. Come to think of it, for the sake of my sanity, I think it's better if I never see you again. Ever." Ginny removed her hand from Harry's mouth, her eyes as cold as the ice that covered the ground outside, and stepped back.

"Goodbye, Harry." And she disapparated.

Harry was dumbstruck. Thinking she had gone to a bar somewhere in London, and realizing it would be impossible to try and find her, Harry, too, disapparated.

Little did Harry know that Ginny had simply apparated to the hallway behind where Harry had stood, and watched him disappear. A quiet sob escaped her lips. "Goodbye, Harry," Ginny whispered. She then went in search of the twelve-pack she had set down by the couch, planning on passing out within at most an hour, kicking aside the two empty bottles that got in her way.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Ron and Hermione had spent the past half hour sitting on Ron's couch leaning against each other, talking quietly and worriedly about what was going on between Harry and Ginny. When Harry hadn't returned immediately, the two assumed that there must have been something going on to keep him from coming back, and were absolutely dying with curiosity. Approximately two minutes after five, Harry appeared with a POP right behind the sofa where Ron and Hermione were waiting, their heads swiveling around so fast they looked like puppets.

Harry had a dazed expression on his face, his emerald eyes slightly glazed over, and his arms loosely held at his side. As if in a dream, Harry walked slowly to his favorite chair (that, coincidentally, was facing the couch) and slowly bent to sit down on it. Once seated, he slowly leaned against the chair's high back, and closed his eyes.

Ron and Hermione shared a look, and sat silently for a moment or two, in case Harry might want to confide in them. After around thirty seconds, Ron couldn't take it any more, and, trying to sound nonchalant (but failing impressively), said "So, didja find the magazines?" At hearing this, Hermione slapped his arm quite hard, but didn't say a word.

Harry, with his eyes still closed, barely whispered "Did you both know?"

Surprised at his answer, Hermione ventured a shy-sounding "Come again?"

Leaning forward, eyes open, and louder this time, Harry said "Did you, both know?"

Sharing a look with Hermione, Ron tried an answer this time, "Did we know what, mate?"

Harry stood up, and sounding quite angry indeed, was very close to yelling: "Did – the two of you – know that – _Ginny_ – has been in... in _love_ – with _me_, since we were in school?!"

Ron and Hermione were shocked at hearing this come from Harry because, for one, they never thought that Ginny would ever admit it to his face, and for another, that after hearing that, he was here talking to _them_, not back there with her.

After a few moments pause, Hermione calmly replied for the both of them, "Yes. For some time now, frankly."

Seething, Harry screamed at them so loudly the neighbors three blocks away would have heard, had he and Ron not put privacy charms on their apartment when they first moved in. "_HOW ON EARTH COULD YOU TWO NOT TELL ME? I'VE LOVED HER FOR AGES!! YOU BOTH KNEW THAT!!_"

This was definitely _not_ the response Ron or Hermione was expecting, for they certainly had no idea he had felt anything other than _brotherly_ love towards her (they certainly hoped he would feel more eventually, but had no previous notion of his feelings). Ron seemed to have lost all ability to talk coherently, so Hermione assumed charge of their side of the conversation (if it weren't for the fact that he was fuming, Harry would have found it endearing that they were talking as one entity). "No, Harry, we had no idea that you felt this way about her at all. You kind of... stopped sharing your real feelings with anyone after... well, after the war."

Losing some of his fury, Harry flopped wearily back into his chair. "Ginny said the exact same thing, somewhere in between telling me off for causing her enough pain to force her to drink enough fire-whiskey every day to become her own liquor store."

Hermione cringed. Ron started at him open-mouthed. "Every... every day?" He whipped around to face Hermione. "Did you _know_ about that??"

She sighed, promising herself that she would take a day off tomorrow and spend a nice, relaxing day at the spa. "Yes, Ron, I knew. _But_," she cut him off from furiously trying to cut _her_ off, "she made me swear _not_ to tell a soul. I promised her. Now is _not_ the time to go into that, okay?" Ron, still livid, nodded through clenched teeth. Hermione turned back to Harry, who was sitting, looking exhausted, in his chair. "What else did she tell you Harry?"

Harry sighed, considering what he should tell them – it wasn't that he had forgotten what she had said; no, he would never forget a word. But there were five words that haunted him that he was somewhat sensitive about. "She said..." he began, his voice catching in his throat. Coughing, he tried again. "She said that... that she's been wasting her life on me. That I've been killing her by making her feel the way she does. That..." he choked. Those five words just did not want to come out. After a slight pause, he tried to continue, but his voice was much huskier, and incredibly subdued. "That she couldn't keep loving me."

The world inside their apartment stopped moving. Not a sound was heard. Ron's mouth fell open for the second time that day. Hermione's eyes brimmed with tears, also for the second time, but more with pity now. She sighed, and looked right at Harry. After he had finished speaking, his head bent forward and he seemed to be studying every fiber on the carpet intensely. On closer inspection, he too looked ready to cry (though he would never show either of them that – well, maybe he would have if Ron wasn't there).

"So, what are you going to do?"

Both men stared at her, neither expecting any conversation for quite some time after that declaration. Hermione shook her head as if to clear her thoughts.

"Wait, bugger that... what else happened? Why are you here instead of there with her?"

Harry sighed. "She wouldn't let me say a thing. After yelling at me for some time, and breaking what's left of my heart in the process, she said that she got a job in Spain, and was leaving tomorrow night. And-" Harry stopped short. He had conveniently forgotten to tell them this part originally. It was still too painful. _Though,_ he mused inwardly, hoping the other two didn't notice that he had stopped right in the middle of a sentence, _apparently not as much pain as I've caused her by being a the biggest bloody prat in all of England_.

Hermione, despite being shocked by the information that her roommate was moving out the next day without any notice, much to Harry's perturbation, had indeed noticed that he had stopped short. She gave him a minute to gather his thoughts, and then gently asked, "What else Harry?"

He sighed, realizing the sooner he got it out in the air, the sooner he wouldn't have to think about it anymore – it was that moment when he understood exactly how Ginny had felt during all those months when she had been drowning her troubles with alcohol. All he wanted to do was to forget... which was precisely what Ginny had been trying to do. It took all his strength to keep from either bursting into tears or running to his and Ron's liquor/beer cabinet and drinking all its contents in one sitting. He took deep breaths, and steadied himself.

"And she said she never wanted to see me again."

Hermione looked as if she had expected that response, while Ron still looked utterly shocked at the whole thing (he was being fairly useless at the moment, actually, still sitting there with his mouth hanging open, catching flies). Hermione hadn't forgotten that Harry hadn't answered why he was here with them instead of there with Ginny, but decided that she didn't want to push him too far. Hermione repeated the question she had asked earlier.

"So what are you going to do?"

"Nothing."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Sad silence enveloped the room again. But only for about ten seconds.

Ron seemed to have decided that it was time to come out of his daze, and make his opinion on the subject known.

"_NOTHING?? My sister just poured her f------ heart out to you, you bloody git, and you aren't even going to do anything about it? You just f------ admitted you felt the same f------ way!!_"

Harry looked shocked that Ron had decided to come out of his reverie, and tried to pacify him – unsuccessfully. "She told me she never wanted to see me again – ever! I don't believe that translates to 'come back here and sweep me off my feet.'"

For someone who never seemed to know how to deal with girls, Ron suddenly had knowledge on the subject (it seemed that Hermione was finally rubbing off on him). "YES IT DOES!" And he continued to rail on about how stupid the two of them were, etcetera, etcetera.

Harry was, by then, exhausted, and sick of fighting with anyone. All he wanted to do was forget, but realizing that figuring out what to do required having all his wits about him, he decided to opt for sleep, and not for the liquor cabinet. After Ron had been going on for some time, he ran out of breath, and Harry used the opportunity to butt in and make his excuses – or lack thereof. "I'm going to bed."

"But it isn't even six yet!" Hermione, who had not said anything for a surprising amount of time, was desperate to keep him from leaving, and wanted to solve all this before Ginny had left and it was too late.

Harry was adamant in his decision. "I don't care. Goodnight."

And he stalked quickly into his room, shut, and locked the door.

----------------------------

Much later that night, as Harry was lying awake in his bed thinking, still not able to either forget or fall asleep, Ron and Hermione lay in their bed, pondering all that had happened that night. Hermione sighed, and broke the silence.

"Ron, I know I shouldn't be thinking about this right now, but I just wanted to say that I'm so happy you finally told me how you felt. I love you so much, I don't know what I would do without you, or what I would have done if you hadn't accidentally let it slip four years ago." She smiled at the remembrance of that night.

Ron couldn't help but smile too, and kissed the top of her head. "I love you, too, 'Mione. I will never leave you."

Knowing the answer already, Hermione grinned and asked him something she had been asking him for years. "You promise?"

"I promise."

They fell asleep that night, worried, yet otherwise content in each other's arms.

-----------------------------

Harry woke up the next morning at around eleven in the morning, yet he felt as if he hadn't gotten more than six hours of sleep, despite having gone to bed at six the evening before. He dragged himself out of bed to take a shower, and then after throwing on an old pair of jeans and a green t-shirt, he wandered out in search of coffee. He found a full steaming pot of it sitting on the table, and after downing one scorching cup of it immediately, poured himself another to drink more slowly while sitting on the couch and reading the Daily Prophet.

Much to his dismay, instead of seeing the newspaper sitting on the sofa he found the two of the three people who he least wanted to see right at that moment.

"We need to talk Harry." Hermione looked him straight in the eyes. "Now."

Though tempted to just walk back into his room and hide under the covers, Harry quickly realized that doing so would only incur Hermione's wrath, which he did _not_ need right now.

So, Harry sat resignedly in his favorite chair, and waited for them to lecture him.

"Ron and I were talking last night-"

"We were?"

"Shut _up_ Ron! Anyway, _yes_, we were talking last night, whether you were listening or not, Mr. Weasley, and we came to the conclusion that if you don't tell her now, you will just continue being as depressed and alone as you've been since the end of school." Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Hermione was too quick for him. "Think about it Harry. Perhaps your subconscious buried it deep inside you, whatever, but somewhere you know too that you've been hiding behind something just like Ginny has. I _know_ that you know you loved her, but I mean that like she's been hiding behind alcohol, you've been hiding behind... well...." Hermione stuttered to a stop, her cheeks beginning to redden.

"Behind, in front, on the top or bottom... there are a number of places where and how Harry could have chosen to hide his d-"

"OH-KAY, Ron! I think we all get the general idea!" By now she was blushing madly from Ron's tactless insinuations. Against his will, Harry smirked at Hermione's discomfort – it wasn't often he got to see her like this, and he was going to enjoy it, even if he couldn't enjoy anything else right then.

Hermione cleared her throat, her face still tinged pink, and continued. "Any how... you can't just let this lie, Harry. You have to do something before she leaves and it's too late."

Harry knew she was right, but also had no idea what to do – there was a reason why he had never told her how he felt (well, the first being that he was afraid she didn't feel the same, but he certainly didn't even consider that now)... he could never think straight around her, especially not making important speeches. Somewhat helplessly, Harry begged Hermione "But what?"

"Tell her how you feel."

"But...."

"Everything. If comes from your heart, she'll know it's the truth. That's the only thing that can save you now."

Hermione sat back and watch Harry ponder this. He stood up suddenly and stated to no one in particular, "I have to go...." And then apparated away with a CRACK.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other and smiled with hope for their friends.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

It seemed to Harry like it had been an eternity since he had left Ron and Hermione in his apartment (in actuality it had only been a few hours), but he had no way of checking the time since he had left without thinking, and had promptly forgotten both his watch, and shoes. Contrary to what his friends had thought, he had not apparated immediately to Ginny. While sitting in that chair, being watched by his two hawks – ahem, friends, he panicked. He needed a place and some time to think, so he apparated to a beach he had seen in a Muggle postcard once. He had no idea where he was, really, all he knew was that the beach, though crowded and noisy, was helping him think. He supposed it was the anonymity that allowed him space. Because it was so crowded, he was really alone... _If that makes any sense_, he thought.

He had spent the whole time on the beach trying to figure out what he wanted to say to Ginny... and trying to muse over the truth that was in what both she and Hermione had said. He sighed – admitting the truth to himself seemed to be almost as hard as admitting the truth to Ginny, when the time came.

The war had been hard on him... after Sirius died, he closed up for some time in his sixth year, but his friends had drawn him out of it just in time to prepare for the upcoming battles. After he had finally defeated Voldemort after his seventh year, with help from Ron and Hermione (Ginny had been stunned, and couldn't help with the final stage of the battle – something which she greatly regretted, though Harry certainly didn't as he didn't want her to be in harms way because of him), he was left to deal with the fact that he had killed a number of people during the battle. It took him months to come to terms with that, and he guessed that was when his friends assumed that he hadn't been talking to them. He had actually come to the very beach that he was walking on now a lot during those months right after the battle, in order to get away from the magical public, and prying eyes.

As for not talking to Ginny at all for awhile... he hadn't done it intentionally. Assuming her careful actions around him were because she was either afraid of him or because she hated him, Harry had avoided her, afraid that the strain of not being able to be open with her would make him admit something to her that he didn't want _anyone_ to know, let alone the person who it was about.

At some point in his depression, he was asked out by a very beautiful witch who he vaguely recognized from his school days at Hogwarts, and decided to go out with her. After a couple of dates, half drunk (but not enough to tamper with his memory), he lost his virginity to her (though she hadn't known that – think of the publicity it would have cost him to admit it to her), and his subconscious buried all his feelings about Ginny underneath the dates, parties, and sex that he threw himself into with great enthusiasm soon after.

Harry sighed audibly, earning him puzzled glances from the various families that were enjoying themselves on the beach. Tired, he sat down a little away from the others, and tried to empty all thoughts from his mind as he watched the happy people splashing in the water. A little boy with hair reminiscent of Harry's own, at most only three years old, toddled over to him and offered him a shovel in the impressionable way that children do, smiling at Harry cheekily. Harry couldn't help but grin at this welcome distraction, and gently held out his hand for the toy. Alas, something out there wasn't letting him forget what he really needed to think about, because just as he was about to take the shovel to play with the little boy, a call was heard from not long away. "James! Come here, stop bothering that nice man!" Both black-haired boys raised their heads to look at the owner of the voice.

It was a muggle woman, dressed in beach clothes, who couldn't be too much older than thirty, and was walking up to the two of them to pick up her son. "I'm so sorry, children will be children."

Harry quickly closed his open mouth, and smiled indulgently. "Yea, they will be."

The woman returned the smile, picked up her son (who stuck his tongue out at Harry before he was carried off), and walked over to her blanket which was located very near to where Harry was sitting.

Harry was utterly flabbergasted. She had looked almost exactly like what he might have pictured Ginny to look like in ten years – the red hair was identical. And sitting on the blanket, smiling at her, holding his arms out for little James, was a black-haired man with glasses... clearly her husband. Also on the blanket, sitting near her father, was a red-haired girl, probably around seven years old. The woman handed her son over to his father, and joined her daughter in the sand, making a castle.

Harry continued to watch them for a moment, before realizing what he needed to do. As he stood up, and started walking to find a place where he could apparate without being seen, he realized he had no idea what time it was. He looked frantically at the sky, for any hint of the time, but then realized that he had no idea where he was, and the time was probably different. Desperate, he asked a nearby muggle family where he was, not caring if he seemed like a lunatic.

Luckily for him, they assumed he was lost, and a lady who reminded him distinctly of an older Hermione, replied warmly, "This is Elton Beach, dear."

Harry breathed with relief – he was still somewhere in England, the time would be the same. "Thank you! Do you have the time?"

"Oh, it's five-thirty-five, dear."

Harry gasped. Ginny had said that she was leaving at _night_, which, judging by her drinking hours, could mean that she had left already. He started to run, and called "Thank you so much!" back to the woman.

Frantic, Harry ran all over the beach, looking for a spot that was secluded enough that he could apparate away safely. _Of course, _now_ the beach fills up._ Thoughts that made him absolutely terrified flew through his mind. _What if she hasn't left yet? What am I going to say? But what if she's left already?_ He finally spotted a cluster of porta-potties, and sprinted towards them, and leapt inside the first one. Making sure no one had seen him go inside, he closed but didn't bother to lock the door. As he apparated away, one thought filled his mind. _Have I already lost my chance?_

_**A/N:** If Elton Beach doesn't actually exist, sorry!! I just made it up. :)  
_


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Ginny was shuffling silently around her room, making sure that she hadn't forgotten to pack anything. Last night she had done exactly as she planned – was passed out cold by seven o'clock. As she walked into the sitting room to pick up something she had left out there, her eyes passed over the trashcan in the corner, full with seven empty bottles that she had cleaned up this morning – or afternoon, rather. She hadn't woken up until noon, and had spent the rest of the day alternating between packing and crying her eyes out. At the time of her conversation with Harry, she had not had enough alcohol in her that she would forget what had happened – no, she remembered everything she had said, and everything he hadn't.

Back in her room, Ginny picked up a piece of parchment that was lying on her desk, with the label 'Hermione & Ron' in her neat scribble. It was a note she had written earlier that she was planning on leaving in Hermione's room, explaining to the two of them why she had left, saying she didn't know when she would be back – but that she would try to keep in touch (just because Harry had ruined _her_ life, she realized that her friends and family didn't need to suffer as well).

She heard a distinctive CRACK in the living room, and sighed, being late already, she didn't want to have to deal with explaining herself to Hermione in person. With this in mind, she walked out of her room armed with the letter, and started, "Hermione, look, I...." But she couldn't finish. Standing in front of her was not Hermione, but the man she was running away from – Harry.

She swallowed. He was looking at her intently. Ginny dropped the letter on a nearby side table, and stalked to the kitchen. She stopped by the sink and picked something up. "I thought I told you-"

"I know what you told me," Harry interrupted, "but I couldn't listen to that without tell you a few things first." He waved his wand quickly, muttering a charm so quietly that Ginny didn't hear him saying it.

Ginny turned around to face him, hiding something behind her back, and said coldly, "Leave Harry. I may have been a little drunk, but I meant what I said. If you don't leave now, I'll-"

"You'll what? I saw your wand lying on the sofa, and I know that you couldn't actually use that knife you have behind your back in the way that you're threatening to."

"Don't try me." The two glared at each other – well, Ginny glared, Harry rolled his eyes.

He waved his wand, and said tiredly, "Go on, throw it at me."

Ginny did so, and realized too late that Harry had transformed the knife into one of Fred and George's fake wands... as she threw it, it turned into a rubber mouse and bounced off of Harry's chest. Realizing she was totally defenseless, she decided that the only way to escape this was to use the same apparition trick she had used last night. However, when she tried to leave, nothing happened. She tried again. Still nothing.

She glared at him even harder.

Harry grinned. "Anti-apparition charm. Hermione taught it to me – must remember to thank her." His face turned more serious. "Ginny, you told me a lot of stuff last night, and now I need you to listen to what I have to say. You're stuck here for at least an hour; that's how long it takes the charm to wear off; whether you like it or not. So please listen?"

Ginny, finally understanding that she'd been had, sat down begrudgingly at the kitchen table, and with more than a touch of annoyance, looked expectantly at him.

Harry sighed and sat down across from her. Now that he was here, he still wasn't sure what he wanted to say, or how he wanted to say it.

They sat looking at each other for a few minutes before Harry bent his head and looked at his lap in order to more closely examine his fingers. Ginny muttered something that sounded suspiciously like _"men_" under her breath.

Still studying his hands, Harry finally began to speak. "I know I haven't been the best person in the last three years-"

"No shit." Ginny interjected bitterly.

Harry sighed and looked at her for the first time in what seemed like ages. "Ginny, please don't interrupt. I don't want to have to put a silencing charm on you, but I will if that's what it takes to get all this out in one go, alright?"

Ginny nodded begrudgingly.

Harry took a deep breath and continued. "Both you and Hermione made me realize that I've been hiding behind something, very similar to how you've been hiding your feelings, since the end of school. The thing is, I never meant to ignore you once I left Hogwarts – it's just that the combination of not seeing you as often, and that you always seemed so reluctant to be around me whenever we ended up at the same place, I drew the misguided opinion that you hated me."

"Quite the opposite, really." Ginny mumbled. Harry gave her a stern look, and she remained quite.

"Anyway, it was about then that I discovered my own way to hide and forget my feelings... London is a very easy city to lose yourself in, in more ways than one. Last night, you were absolutely right, I never cared a bit for any of those girls. I realized at some point after you got out of Hogwarts, when I started to see you more often, that you didn't hate me, and that was when we proceeded to make arrangements to meet once a week. Remember? Originally it was to catch up on all the stuff we'd missed in the year or so when we were fairly distant with each other, then it just kind of continued, I suppose…. In any case, I always looked forward to those Thursdays... they've always been the best part of my week. I made sure I was always open to meet you on those days. Thing is, the one real reason why I enjoyed them so much... Ginny, can't you tell why by now? You honestly have no idea?"

Ginny, thoroughly confused, shook her head.

Harry mimicked this, and sighed. "I've been such an idiot. I guess I always thought you knew but never cared, or some such excuse... Ginny, I love you."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Ginny couldn't say a word. There were so many emotions threatening to burst out of her – relief, anger, frustration... bliss. She put her head in her hands to keep it all from spilling out of her.

With a gentleness Ginny had never seen him show to her, Harry reached over and pulled her head up to face him. "I really do, Ginny, I've always loved you." As she looked at him silently, tears beginning to fall soundlessly down her face, and Harry's green eyes dulled as he sighed, bowing his head and retracting his hand from her face to rest it limply on the table. "I know I've been a horrible person, Gin, and I know I've never deserved even a hello from you, and these past few years I certainly haven't even deserved that. You've always been there, and I was too stupid to do anything. I understand if you still want to leave, I know that...." Harry choked. He took a deep breath, drawing on all the strength he had left in him. "I know that you don't love me anymore, that I've said all this too late. I just had to let you know before you left."

His eyes pooled with tears he refused to shed in her presence, and took the risk of looking up at her, to see what she would do. Would she say 'Goodbye' again, breaking his heart, just as she had done last night?

The look on her face was one that Harry had not expected to see. Her tears had dried, and she was staring at him intently. In one swift movement, she stood up, and walked around the table to him. For what seemed like ages, she stood there, looking down at him as he looked up at her. Slowly, she knelt down on the floor, took his face in her hands, and gently brushed her lips against his. Harry's eyes were already blissfully closed, but opened them as she pulled her face away, a small smile playing against her lips. "You daft idiot," she whispered, "I'm not going anywhere." Harry grinned, slipped onto the floor in front of her (his chair crashed backwards behind him), and enveloped her in the perfect first embrace.

They stayed like that for what seemed like no time at all, just enjoying the feel of finally being together, after all those years.

Shyly, slowly, Harry lightly brushed his lips against Ginny's neck, and whispered, "I love you so much, I will never hurt you again, I promise."

Ginny leaned back only to see truth and happiness in his eyes, where despair had been just moments before. There were questions needed for them to both understand how their relationship stood by now. She smiled, and responded by pressing her lips to his. Electricity ran through both their bodies at the sensation of being so close to each other. Passion quickly engulfed both their minds, and they were both thinking about doing things with (and to) each other that they had yearned to do for years. Gently, Harry ran his tongue along Ginny's bottom lip, and then slipped it inside her waiting mouth. Their kissing became more frenzied, desperate even, to experience this as much as they could before... well, they didn't know what, exactly.

All they knew right then was the feeling of their bodies pressed up against each other, and their tongues exploring each other's mouths.

Eventually, though, they had to break apart for air, and, breathing heavily, Harry slyly started planting kisses all over Ginny's face and neck. Ginny sighed at the attention she was receiving, but then suddenly pulled away. Harry gave her a questioning look.

"We have to stop."

"But... why?"

"My knees are killing me."

Harry laughed, as he stood up and offered her a hand. Once they were both standing, and done chuckling, their eyes met. Harry's eyes quickly deepened their color, and seemed to have a somewhat mischievous glint in them.

Ginny smiled, and put her arms around his neck, pulling him towards her. "What are you thinking about, Mr. Potter?"

"Why, naturally, I'm simply sweeping you off your feet, Miss Weasley." Harry grinned, and literally swept her off her feet and into his arms. Ginny shrieked, and then laughed. "Where to, Mademoiselle? Your steed awaits instructions."

Ginny grinned seductively, and raised her head to whisper in his ear: "To the bedroom, my _steed_."

Harry's mouth dropped open at the somewhat uncharacteristic insinuation his girlfriend had just made, nearly dropping her. Ginny reached up to close his mouth delicately with her fingers, then wrapped her fingers in his hair, and pulled his head towards hers for a searing kiss.

When she pulled away, Harry gasped for breath, and nearly fell over (what with the added weight of her in his arms). "Huh," was the only coherent thing he could think of saying.

Ginny smiled, and raised her eyebrows. Harry regained consciousness (in a manner of speaking), and realized that she was waiting to be carried to the bedroom. Assuming she meant her own, Harry quickly walked into the room (now filled only filled with two suitcases, her bed, and her empty desk). He laid her upon the bed, and she arranged herself on the bed so that she was both lying down and sitting at once. Harry was still standing, partaking in an internal battle with himself.

On one side, he wanted nothing more than to be with Ginny, the woman who he loved more than life itself, in the most intimate way humanly possible. On the other, he knew (or thought he did) that she was a virgin, and didn't want to take things too fast. Deciding to put Ginny first, he sat on the edge of the bed and patted the space next to him. Perplexed, Ginny scooted over and looked at him expectantly, sensing that he wanted to say something before they 'took their relationship to the next level.'

Harry took a deep breath and began, "Ginny, believe me, this is not a reflection on you, but on what it would be that we would be... er, doing. I mean, you have no idea how much I want to...." Actually she did, his pants weren't hiding it very well. "I simply think it would be better for you if we waited."

Ginny stood up, putting her hands on her hips, and glared at him. "What on Earth are you talking about, Harry?"

Realizing she might not ever want to do it if this didn't come out right, Harry, in trying to explain things coherently, stood up, and promptly began to babble. "I just mean, that I do want to, and you may think you want to now, but losing your virginity is a big deal, I mean, if I had a chance to re-do when I lost mine, I'd take it with no questions asked, and-"

Understanding what he meant, Ginny decided that she would have to come clean. Almost so quietly that Harry didn't hear under his prattling on and on, she whispered, "So would I."

"-it's more imp- what?"

Ginny sighed again, and with a shaky voice, said slightly louder, "So would I."

Perplexed, Harry began, "You would wha- oh. You mean you..." he broke off.

"Yes. I'm not a virgin, Harry."

**A/N:** Magsluvsaragorn: sorry!! the thing is, you gotta realize that when Ginny was railing at harry the night before, she was half drunk. sober, she would never have had the guts to tell him all that, or yell it at him, no less. she's just been waiting for him to come to his senses for so long (they both have), that, as long as he makes it up to her, she's more than willing to move on.

And as for the rest of you - _review!!_


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

They stood there like that, just looking at each other, for what seemed like decades.

Harry cleared his throat, and in trying to sound casual and not at all shocked, his voice squeaked at an octave higher than it had been for eleven years. "Whe- oh, sorry, ahem, when?"

Ginny, rightly upset at his reaction, sat down on the floor, and looked up at him, gesturing for him to join her.

_Why is it that we constantly end up on the floor?_ Harry thought, but joined her down there anyway.

Taking a deep breath, Ginny began her speech, and for the second time in twenty-five hours, she confessed things that she'd been hiding for a very, very long time. "About a year ago, maybe a little more, I don't really remember. It was when I had first started drinking, and I was still kind of... experimenting with the amount I drank, and where I drank it. I got piss drunk at a pub, but the details are kind of blurry. I remember this guy trying to pick me up; we flirted for a little while, and we danced together, but after that I don't really remember what happened. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a room that I'd never seen before, naked, with that guy's arm draped over my stomach, kissing my shoulder. I screamed, leapt out of the bed, and ran out of the room, gathering my clothes as I went. I disapparated before he could follow me." She chanced looking at Harry. Her mouth dropped open at the sight of tears forcing their way out of his eyes.

"Sorry, go on, Gin."

She gathered herself together (tears were leaking out of her own eyes by then), and continued. "Once at home, I checked myself over to see what had happened. You see, I had just finished Healer training, so I knew what to do in this kind of situation. Okay, it was quite different doing it to myself, but very useful nonetheless. I quickly realized that I had lost my virginity the night before. This part I remember very clearly, despite the pounding headache that I had at the time. I sat down on the floor of my room... and..." she tried to calm down, but was crying too hard now to continue.

Harry leaned over and held her as she cried into his shoulder, a few of his own tears dripping onto her red hair. After her breathing steadied, they stayed in each other's embrace, but Ginny continued her story, knowing she had to get this all out now, or never. "And I cried. Cried that some man I had only just met had seen me naked, cried that I had done this to myself, cried that I could never get that moment of my life back... cried that it hadn't been you. Anyway, I must have been down there for hours, because that's how Hermione found me when she got home that night. I had forgotten to do the other tests that check for any infections or traces of possible pregnancy, which she made sure I did in quick succession. After assuring that I was otherwise okay, she helped to calm me down. I learned a lesson that night, though it obviously wasn't the lesson Hermione was hoping I had learned. I learned to only drink at home, so you can make sure you don't do things that you regret. That was the first and only time I had sex with anyone... and I don't remember it at all."

Harry's voice was thick, but he had to speak anyway. "I'm so sorry Ginny... I never knew... I know nothing can make that better, nothing I can say will take that away. I just wish you had told me sooner..." he sighed, "I wish _I_ had told you sooner. I suppose that through all this, we've both done a lot of things we regret and can't take back...." He held her out at arm's length so he could look her straight in the eye. "But we can start making new memories, and doing things that we won't regret. Come on." He reached out and pulled her into a standing position, and grabbed her hand as he walked out the door. If Ginny was confused, she didn't show it, she simply followed him out of her room and into the sitting room.

The first thing he did was locate the remaining alcohol in the apartment, and with Ginny's help, tossed it into the garbage tank on the side of the building. Once back in the apartment, he smiled at her, and said, "Now, doesn't that feel better?"

Ginny laughed, and said breathily, "Oh, yes! I feel so free!"

They laughed together, and Harry picked her up and spun her in circles around the apartment. Then the two of them collapsed on the floor, feeling happier than they had in years.

They lay like that for a long time, Ginny's head resting on Harry's stomach as he stroked her hair. Soon, however, Ginny got back to thinking about what they had been talking about prior to throwing away the substance that had, only the day before, been ruining her life. A frown inched its way across her face, and abruptly, she sat up and turned to look at Harry, hugging her knees close to her body. Sensing that she needed to talk about something relating to their previous discussion, Harry, too, sat up and faced her.

"So... it doesn't bother you that I'm not a virgin?"

Surprised that _that_ was what she was worried about, Harry immediately replied "Well, no... I mean, to be honest, _how_ you lost your virginity does bother me some, but there isn't anything to do about that. And I guess it kind of bothers me that you didn't tell me all this time... but the actual fact that you aren't a virgin doesn't bother me. Why should it?" He looked at her perplexed.

Ginny smiled slightly, and shrugged. "I dunno... I thought that maybe you'd prefer it if I was one... I've heard other guys talking about how 'ice cream always tastes better if it comes with a cherry' and all that nonsense."

Harry let out a disbelieving "Hunh!" and then proceeded to reassure her, "Ginny, I want to be with you because you're _you_, not because of... well... to put it in your words, your 'cherry.'"

Ginny breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, good! I mean, it's just that I've heard you talk about sex a lot in the past couple of years, maybe not what you've wanted me to hear, but- hey, I think _you're_ the one I heard use that 'cherry' phrase!"

Harry blushed. "I am?"

Ginny looked at him sternly. "I suppose you didn't mean that either, eh?"

Harry looked down at his lap, and said bashfully, "Actually, if I remember this right, you heard me saying that to Seamus, Dean, and Ron, correct?" Ginny nodded. "Well, I'd overheard someone use that phrase in a bar the night before, and I was testing out the waters on whether it got good responses in 'guy talk.' It got me a few laughs and slaps on the back, but then I realized what it meant, and..." he trailed off. "Let's just say I decided not to use that particular phrase anymore."

Ginny grinned, and stood up. As Harry was looking up at her, she held her hand out to him. "C'mon, lets go to bed." Harry accepted her hand, but once he was standing upright, raised his eyebrows at her comment. "Not for that... not tonight. I'm tired, and I want to go to sleep. Preferably wrapped in your arms."

Harry grinned his relief that she had taken that course of action, and gently placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her to the bedroom. They spent the night in each other's arms (fully clothed), finally happy, right where they were.

**A/N:** Midnight Lilly: s'ok. The thing is, I don't view it as Harry really driving Ginny to drink... I kinda see it as they both made poor choices, and then had to deal with the consequences.

Magsluvsaragorn: (luv u, btw!!) Thanks, and I hope this answered your question!! And thanks.. I'm really happy, I finished my history paper yesterday, so I've had a much easier day and all that... and good luck with exams!! I'm planning on avoiding it altogether (altho that means i hav to suffer through physics.. sigh). Oh well. Hope you enjoyed this one!

And as for everyone else - **review**!


	11. Chapter 11 Eplilogue

**Epilogue**

Harry and Ron were standing in the kitchen of the Burrow, and Ron was having trouble fixing his bowtie. Harry rolled his eyes at his hopelessly nervous friend. "Let me get that for you," and went to adjust Ron's bowtie for him.

"Sorry, mate, just... getting married today and all...." Ron's voice trailed off.

It was exactly a year and a half since that fateful weekend of discoveries and truth. Finally, Ron had raised enough money to buy Hermione the perfect ring, about six months ago, and she had cried and accepted immediately upon seeing Ron, down on bended knee, asking her. _It was perfect_, Ron mused, while staring out the kitchen window. _And then the reward I got later that night couldn't even compare to that time when we_-

"Ronald, m'boy!"

Ron was startled out of his somewhat inappropriate reverie by his father's voice. "Son, I'm so happy for you, it's about time you...."

Harry smiled, and turned away from the inevitable 'father-son' talk that was coming. His thoughts wandered all over the past eighteen months, which he could easily have said were some of the best of his life. He and Ginny had moved in together shortly after Ron and Hermione had gotten engaged, in order to give the 'happy couple' some space of their own. Not to say that they weren't a happy couple themselves... quite the contrary. They had almost the perfect relationship; hardly ever fighting, and, once they were both ready... the sex was utterly fantastic.

Realizing that he was being spoken to, Harry turned around. Ron looked back at him joyfully and anxiously at the same time. Harry grinned. "Ready, mate? S'almost time, I'd guess."

Ron laughed nervously. "Yea, let's go."

The two of them turned to the back door of the Burrow, and stepped outside. It was gorgeous early-autumn weather – the sky was cloudless, and a perfect light-sapphire blue, with just enough breeze in the air so that it wasn't stuffy. The garden was filled with chairs (occupied with family and friends of the bride and groom), and there were flowers of every kind decorating the whole place. There was a rose-decorated archway at the head of the rows of chairs, with a white carpet running up to it. Ron and his best man walked up to the archway. Harry grinned broadly at his best friend, winked, and said, "Go for it."

Ron laughed, and stepped into place at the head of the party, while Harry (for what seemed like the first time in their friendship) stepped to the side, giving Ron all the glory he deserved to finally have. The band began to play (oddly enough, starring Neville as the drummer... who'd a thought?), and Hermione stepped out and onto the aisle. Ron's breath caught in his throat; he had thought previously that it was impossible for her to look more beautiful than the way she did every day – he was wrong. She was wearing a pale pink, silk dress that flowed around her like water in a pool. Her face was framed with feathery curls (the rest tied loosely up in the back), touched with only the barest of make-up – the excitement of the day was enough to give her the perfect rosy glow, perfectly accentuating the dress. As she reached the front of the aisle, and turned to face Ron, their eyes met, sparkling with the anticipation and knowledge that they would be together forever.

Harry, despite good intentions, hardly noticed any of this as Ginny had been following Hermione's procession up the aisle. She was wearing a light blue dress which set off the color of her hair nicely, which fell loose around her shoulders. At the front, she stood opposite Harry, and she flashed him the most beautiful smile. He grinned back, knowing that someday soon they would be there in place of Ron and Hermione, and the two of them turned to watch their two best friends partake in the happiest moment of their lives.

------------------------

About an hour later, the wedding reception was in full swing, and the band was playing more music (both muggle and wizard songs, seeing as a lot of Hermione's muggle relatives were there), and most of the party were dancing.

Harry and Ginny, however, were sitting in two chairs, slightly away from the rest, simply enjoying each others' company. Her head was resting on his shoulder, as his arm was wrapped securely around hers. Others in the party looked at them, and smiled at seeing such contentment in their features, after a rough few years for the both of them (though, not many knew to what extent those "troubles" had progressed).

Carlyle, Crookshank's son (the mother was some unknown cat he had met at Hogwarts – love finds all!), was running out of the kitchen holding an egg in his mouth, being closely chased by a fuming Mrs. Weasley. "Why, I never..." she sputtered as she jogged, breathing heavily, past Harry and Ginny.

The pair laughed, and Ginny whispered quietly to Harry, "I seem to remember a certain Gryffindor having an affinity for stealing eggs in his fourth year...."

Harry chuckled, at the memory of stealing the egg from the Hungarian Horntail's nest – oddly enough, as Ginny pointed it out, he could see the resemblance between the dragon mother chasing after him and Mrs. Weasley running around the garden after Carlyle.

He turned in his chair so he was facing Ginny, and she lifted her head to smile up at him. Reflecting on all that they had been through together, just sitting there, looking at her face in the sunset's rosy light, Harry was perfectly content – nothing could improve on this moment.

"_And in that moment I found myself knowing that in the end it's just all about you and me, nothing smaller or larger. Though dragons are good for the soul, nothing can be better than baring yourself for another... open for scrutiny, ridicule, and indulgence._" The band was singing a muggle song, and Harry, surprised to hear his very thoughts echoed in another's words, pried his eyes away from Ginny's face to listen to the song.

"_Therein lies the balls, and the mind, and the heart... as fear is truly the Mindkiller.... When nothing is left, everything is gained...._" Harry grinned, and turned to look at Ginny again, his thoughts mirroring her own. They leaned towards each other, in one of what was to be many, many more passionate kisses.

"_You see, I wish I was a poet, but I know as we go round and round, though endings are never every happy, it's the happy moments along the way, that in the end, make it ok...._"

**A/N**: The lyrics are from the song "Nobody" by Five for Fighting – I certainly didn't write them!! And you should all listen to it cuz it's a great song.

Magsluvsaragorn: thanks, I'm trying to do my best in that class (which honestly isn't very good, but oh well). Good luck on your exams! hope you like this chapter! I hope to write other stuff after break (namely, a missing R/H moment, from this story, or two), so keep reading!!

TeaAndCakeOrDeath: thanks! I updated this as soon as I could – please don't hurt me! Lol, just kidding. But thanks so much for your kind words, it really means a lot to me!! (I actually do aspire to be an author when I get older…. :) )

Lila: Hmm.. there were a full six chapters between the main conflict and the resolution, and though the chapters aren't epics, I think the space in between was appropriate for the story line.

_Everyone_: Happy Christmahanukwansadan!! Thanks for reading, I hope that you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!


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